It isn't your first trip, or your second, not even the third or fourth, but another. Your quarry is the same, again and again.You've set your sights high, perhaps to high, but you know that is the sign of a true hunter. Now its that time again. The first time or two you shot bait animals, again and again. hung in trees, tied to rocks, drags and drags. Nothing. YOu knew the cats were clever beyond imagination, but they just seemed to be smarter than you, your PH, the trackers, just everybody. So even though you didn't get your chance, the wheel must come around. It has to be your time, soon. The last trip you came close. It was the last night, the bait had been hit several times. you refreshed it, and it was hit again. Now it was the last night. Can you hear it? The silence. The birds are quiet, the wind has quit. Can you hear? Then you hear an animals cry, the cry it gives when it dies. Its only 200 yards from the bait, but now your heart sinks to the bottom. He came, came to your bait, but on the way the warthog crossed his path at the wrong time. He has his meal, and you have nothing. Now you are in another blind. This PH has had great success and you're hoping some of it rubs off. You've spent day, weeks months in the blinds and come up empty. Such is the success on him. You know that this is the loveld. It is the home to the monsters of his race. And you are here. again you are here. You've shot impala and zebra for bait, You've shot more zebra for rugs than your game room has floor space for. Still you can't give up. Somewhere out there he's lurking, hiding, killing, living, and he has your name on him, maybe. The area you are in is rich in his kind. 7 baits have been hit, but none of them show the track. the monster track, the track of him. So you continue the hunt, day after day, check baits, check track, refresh baits. You have lost track of the number of impala you shot. What drives you on you don't know, but it continues driving. Then, the zebra quarter you tied by the rock by the hillside is hit. There is at least a quarter of it eaten. Your PH and tracker wind around the rocks to the bait. You stay where you are to avoid any extra human scent. Something you learned long ago. They get to the bait, make a quick examination and almost run back. Its a track and the biggest one they have ever seen. We're going violate every rule in the book the PH tells you. We should wait a day or two to gain his confidence, but this one to to big. to old. We'll set a blind over there by that big rock and get into it early. We just can't risk missing the chance. So the blind is made, everything is carefully placed so that there is not even a leaf out of place. It is only 2 PM and the sun is high, but you crawl into the blind. The chair is comfortable, but as the hours wear on it feels like a rock. Yu don't dare cough, squeak, your bones are creaking and cracking, but you breathe. quietly you breathe. The hours wear on and sun sun has lost is infire. The darkness is approaching. You've been almost asleep, but suddenly you're awake, wide awake. He's there. you don't know how you know, but you know. The birds have gone silent, the wind has ceased, and he is there. Somewhere near. Your instincts have become one of the hunter. One like his. He's is there. You peer out of the little hole in the side of the blind. You PH pokes you in the side and motions you to be still. He's there, near. Your back is sore from sitting and leaning, your eyes sore from staring. Then, all of a sudden thereis a dark shape on the rock. The shape moves very slowly toward the zebra bait. So slowly that you can barely see it move. Can you hear him? The clawed leg reaches up and hooks the bait, you can hear it swing. The great head reaches out and takes a bite large enough that you can see the meat disappear. Can you hear? the crunch, you can hear it. The poke on you knee signals it is your time, Finally it is your time. This is the moment that you have waited for, waited and waited, hunted and hunted, wished and wished for. It is barely light, but it is light enough for the little red dot in the center of the scope to settle. You mentally remind yourself of the placement, and the dangers of missing it. The rifle seems to go off on its own, and he disappears. How did it look? Looked good comes your answer. Give it a few minute and we'll go see your PH tells you. Those few minutes seem like hours. You relive the shot in your mind over and over again. Then its out the back of the blind, and a cautious approach to the bait. He's not there. You know the shot was good, but where is he. UP the hill, he must have gone up the hill and so with the torches lit, up the hill you go. Just a step at a time. The sound makes your heart stop, time stops, he is still alive, and letting you know it. Down the hill, quick, down the hill. Give his a few more minutes. Then up the hill again.. There is a good blood spore, but the hill hides most of it. Up, further and further. He is dead, he has to be. You feel ashamed that your shot didn't kill immediately. Now you feel that you've put everybody in danger, but up the hill. The blood spore is gone, The trackers carefully look and look, back down the hill one step at a time. Suddenly the lead track jumps straight up. He is there, behind the big rock. Dead, The shot was good. His spirit kept him alive for a time, but no longer. You feel joyous, yet your heat feels heavy, for he was the master of his world, and you have deprived him of it. YOu are now master. Yet even in death, he is. It was your destiny and his. Now its over. Over Over. Damn

Thanks for the great story. I really appreciate reliving the hunt through your tale.

Well done!

Man, I'm living my leopard story all over again! Fantastic!

butchloc That is an absolute jem of discriptive writing! Congratulations Sir!

butchloc- Thanks for entertaining us. I am off after leopard in two weeks and this does not make the wait any easier

Tic Toc Tic Toc

VERY WELL DONE!!! THANKS.